


idiots across the world

by casualbird



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Attempt at Humor, First Time, Horny Teenagers, M/M, No Sex, Sexual Humor, Teenagers, Trans Hinata Shouyou, Trans Male Character, being gay is harder than it looks, no SUCCESSFUL sex anyway, teen movie: the fic, this is the least pornographic thing i have ever written
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-28
Updated: 2020-10-28
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:29:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27254203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/casualbird/pseuds/casualbird
Summary: Once they figure it out, sex is going to beincredible.Hinata can tell. They just haven't figured it out. Yet.Hinata and Kageyama try mightily to accomplish sex, with the operative word being 'try.'
Relationships: Hinata Shouyou/Kageyama Tobio
Comments: 10
Kudos: 125





	idiots across the world

**Author's Note:**

> i didn't include the 'underage' warning because ao3 says that's just for explicit sex scenes, but i want to be very clear: they are sixteen and they are trying admirably to have sex, it's just not working. this is 100% for comedic value (at least i think it's funny) and is, i cannot stress enough, not porn.
> 
> also, hinata's trans, and there's a brief vague reference to him getting his period if that's something you'd rather not engage with.
> 
> enjoy! or don't, i'm not your mom.

Once they figure it out, sex is going to be _incredible._ Hinata can tell--like smashing the volleyball all _doosh!_ and hitting the dirt to find it’s slammed down just as unopposed as he has. He’s pretty certain of a number of things about Kageyama, and about volleyball, and about the great wide world, and this is one of them.

They just haven’t gotten there.

Yet.

Anyway.

It starts during volleyball practice, as these things do. Hinata _whabangs_ a spike so hard he swears he’ll break the ball, and it reenters the atmosphere just inside the line, and his brand new boyfriend looks at him with the most wonderful, wobbliest expression Hinata has seen in all his sixteen years.

So he stares back, and howls hard enough to pull a muscle in his face, and Kageyama’s fingers twitch like he wants to give him a noogie or a kiss and it is the most beautiful thing that has ever happened to either of them.

And then once the rest get done with the revelry of it, Sawamura heh- _hems_ and Nishinoya wolf-whistles and Tanaka shouts for them to please for the love of fuck stop touching butts and play volleyball, dammit.

It is then that it becomes Hinata’s best-beloved ambition to touch Kageyama’s butt.

It is about five seconds thereafter that the stomachache hits, and he has to bolt for the faucet to wash his face and calm the hell down.

It is an impossible slick-palmed zitty teenage dream.

_But._

He and Kageyama figured out how to do weird quick attacks and regular quick attacks and how to stop loathing each other’s miserable stupid guts, and so surely this was not impossible.

Besides. People are doin’ it constantly, right? Idiots across the world, every second of every day, and Hinata knows he can’t be dumber than all of them. (He makes better grades than Kageyama, after all.)

Also, he wants to. A lot. Like, probably not as much as he wants to win at Nationals, but somewhere in that ballpark.

So. He says, red-faced and stammering and brilliantly, sparkingly _alive_ one evening while they are sucking face behind the Sakanoshita store, fingers clenched in Kageyama’s sweated-out shirt.

Kageyama laughs, sudden and barking, and calls him _numbnuts_ with all the love that fit in his rangy body, and thanks him breathlessly for being the one to bring it up.

They’ve been running on a collision course with it ever since. Masturbating feverishly in the shower, biking crosstown to buy a box of condoms from someone who wasn’t Coach. Watching those condoms gather dust in the sock drawer with a deep jumpiness. They make endless furtive Google searches that assure them they have all the time in the world, and still feel inexorably as if they are going to die virgins in three weeks, maximum.

Hinata is pretty sure that they won’t, though. Love probably makes everything okay. He and Kageyama are like a well-worn pair of gym shoes, and if knowing that you loved someone was a subject, he’d have been acing it since first-semester midterms. It was easier than math, anyway, by a country mile.

He finds he can’t concentrate in math anymore whatsoever. Something about the quadratic formula had just tangled up its wires with the image of himself and Kageyama writhing deadlocked at center court under the net, their bare skin scuffing on the laminate floor.

He isn’t dumb enough for that, yet. What he is dumb enough to do is bump noses and clack teeth while they kiss; to shove Kageyama’s cold hands up under his shirt to show him that the binder won’t bite; to sometimes, very gently, huff his given name.

They are dumb enough to sleep in the same bed one night, and when they wake Kageyama’s body is dumb enough to be poking Hinata in the leg. For a brilliant groggy moment it is wonderful, and then Hinata wakes up the rest of the way and tells him that his face is _exquisitely_ stupid, and is proud of himself because ‘exquisite’ is a vocabulary word.

Proud, and also disappointed, because he really is not getting the hang of this gay sex thing, not yet. And also because he feels a little bad for Kageyama, because Hinata is dawningly aware that boners are not the fault of those who bear them. He apologizes. They inhale a stack of pancakes. All is well.

A week later, Hinata pulls Kageyama in his lap and kisses him until he can feel his heart beating like every section of a brass band at once. Kageyama makes a face that scrunches in with how much it wants, and then the penny drops. Hinata recalls that he is on the rag and while he and Kageyama are brave they are probably not _that_ brave, and the unfairness of it sours the milk so badly he nearly dumps his boyfriend on the floor.

They go to the kitchen after this, and eat things, and all is well once again. This is simply how it is, for the adolescent male of the species. Being gay is hard. Eating a sandwich with Nutella and mashed potatoes is also hard, but substantially less so, and it’d been entirely worth the love and awe on Kageyama’s face when he stuffed down that last bite.

Being with Kageyama, generally speaking, is good. Sitting with him in silence, eating one of their families out of forsaken house and home, this is good. All their little pissing contests are good, and all their brief, headscratching study dates, and wrestling.

Wrestling with Kageyama is very, _very_ good.

Sometimes they get flashes of something even better.

Sex happens for a second that night behind the store, when Hinata trips and his wobbly thigh hitches up to the right place. It happens in Kageyama’s bathroom when a feel-better kiss to the scrape on his lower back very nearly becomes an actual blowjob, before Hinata reels at the sudden sensation of a dick twitching in his face. (Sex does not happen for at least a week after this, while Hinata deals with the revelation that _they move on their own_ and _God just lets it happen.)_ It happens once during practice, when Kageyama sets him up the all-mother of perfect tosses and for a split-second they are somewhere else entirely.

Sex happens on the Sunday afternoon they spend sprawled across Kageyama’s washed-soft comforter, shooting the shit until ‘shooting the shit’ ends up becoming a fervid game of tonsil volleyball, and _that_ ends up with Kageyama’s clammy hand in Hinata’s sweatpants _all the way to the wrist._

Sex must go on happening for a good fifteen seconds, and it feels like a hot shower after practice might feel, if it was the first hot shower, the first practice Hinata had had in his entire life.

But then there is a sound like Kageyama’s mother trundling up the stairs, and the main very suddenly runs out of hot water, and Kageyama jerks his hand back so fast that he snaps the elastic on Hinata’s pants and also kind of smacks him in the nose.

His mom doesn’t even come in, but Hinata laughs so hard he nearly _faints_ and their mood, such as it was, is ruined.

Not even really _ruined._ Just replaced, painted over with thick strokes of levity and _someday you dipshit we’ll look back on this and laugh._

And they will, and they’ll be okay, and someday, _some_ day--

\--They’ll get there.

**Author's Note:**

> hello hello! i hope you liked this--maybe it's weird? i don't know. i'd love to hear what you think. i just wrote this because i think it's funny when people write sex scenes between young people as if they have any idea what they're doing. and also because sex is funny, and stupid boys are funny, and so on. or at least, i think these things are funny.
> 
> note: the nutella and mashed potato sandwich is a real food item i have seen a man eat and enjoy, though he didn't like it so much after he added the thousand island dressing.
> 
> anyway. practice safe sex, kids, and if you feel like it, come follow me on [twitter (18+)](https://twitter.com/bird_scribbles) so you can keep up with the things i write that (usually) have more redeeming literary value than this.
> 
> thanks for reading and have a lovely day!


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